


it's not worth it, achilles.

by Zyzzyva



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Agoraphobia, Angst, Character Study, Eret-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Gen, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, They/Them Pronouns for Eret (Video Blogging RPF), uh this one's a little darker
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 08:22:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29631807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zyzzyva/pseuds/Zyzzyva
Summary: ' “you’re asking me to be king?” they ask, hesitant.“i’m not asking,” dream responds, and something in his tone makes them freeze. they take a step back, almost unwittingly.“i want you to be king, eret. i think you’d do a banger job,” dream says, standing. as he stalks closer, they clench their fists, silently beg themselves not to show their discomfort.he stops only a few inches away, crosses his arms far too casually for the situation.“this is how it’s going to go,” he commands, and suddenly eret is far, far too aware of how this man has commanded men, won wars.whatever he says… they can’t refuse. '
Relationships: Cara | CaptainPuffy & Eret, Eret & Floris | Fundy, Eret & Floris | Fundy & Niki | Nihachu, Eret & Niki | Nihachu
Comments: 9
Kudos: 80





	it's not worth it, achilles.

**Author's Note:**

> it's five am when i'm uploading this so i'm sorry if my notes aren't great bkjn
> 
> i feel like a lot of people forget that w/in the context of the smp & our current knowledge of dream's character, it's quite likely eret was at one time a victim of dream's as well, so i took it upon myself to write about it hgjhj
> 
> i hope you enjoy!
> 
> tws: just heaps of manipulation, emotional & slight physical abuse, panic attacks,one very vague reference to suicidal ideation.

eret is a watcher.

they’ve never wanted to be at the center of the conflict. content with being off to the side, content with taking what’s given to them.

(but are they?)

they care for wilbur, for tommy, for tubbo, for fundy, for all of them. that isn’t a question. wilbur had welcomed them into his nation with open, welcoming arms, and they accepted graciously and without hesitation.

they can see the gears turning in dream’s head, and they can only see those gears growing sharp with time. it’s not much of a question.

and maybe that has something to do with it, but at the end of the day they can’t quite say what made them accept dream’s invitation to chat.

(it was greed, it was the promise of power, it was cowardice and ambition and desperation all wrapped in a disgusting little bundle that rested in their chest, and maybe still does.)

in any case, they find themselves face to face with the man who should be their worst enemy right now.

they hold themselves poised as they can, and for some reason it makes dream huff what must be a laugh. he settles on a block, gesturing for eret to do the same. they refuse.

“so i have a proposition,” dream starts, adjusting his mask to more thoroughly cover his face. he pauses, and eret raises an eyebrow, waves for him to continue.

“we’re looking for a king to rule the smp,” he says, leaning forward.

“i thought you had george for that,” they say. what is this?

“not for now. later, sure, but i’m not sure he’s ready.” that makes eret frown. it’s an odd way to refer to one’s right-hand man, but at the end of the day it’s not their business.

“you’re asking me to be king?” they ask, hesitant.

“i’m not asking,” dream responds, and something in his tone makes them freeze. they take a step back, almost unwittingly.

“i want you to be king, eret. i think you’d do a banger job,” dream says, standing. as he stalks closer, they clench their fists, silently beg themselves not to show their discomfort.

he stops only a few inches away, crosses his arms far too casually for the situation.

“this is how it’s going to go,” he commands, and suddenly eret is far, far too aware of how this man has commanded men, won wars.

whatever he says… they can’t refuse.

* * *

  
contrary to what everyone says, they don’t want to be a traitor, but if everyone’s going to think they’re the villain they might as well make it sound good.

the final control room goes perfectly. as they find themselves next to dream on the battlefield, dream’s cold, commanding hand leaving a bruise on their shoulder where he holds it proudly, they don’t feel like much a king, and they feel an awful lot like a slimy traitor.

* * *

  
it’s not a coronation as much as a condemnation. dream places the crown on their head, and they can’t help but flinch away.

they think they hear sapnap stifle a chuckle, and every nerve in their body constricts in barely contained rage.

dream uses his hand to force eret’s chin up, and they refuse to meet his eyes until he squeezes enough to hurt. he nods, patronizingly, lets go and brushes invisible dust off their shoulders.

they pray for it to be over.

* * *

  
being a king has always been a figurehead. they hold no power.

dream doesn’t accept anything less than perfect. not in their posture, not in their robes, not in their voice and actions. they do what he says, and they don’t what he doesn’t.

the others hate them, still, and they can’t blame them in the slightest. they’ve barely seen them, not since the final control room, and they can only hope they’ve pulled themselves together, since.

they’re so proud of tommy. but they can’t say that, not hardly, not when dream’s pacing back and forth in the meeting room.

they stand at the door like a guard, only really there as a pretty decoration, and they’re only forced to listen while dream and the others concoct plan after plan to kill the others.

they’re so tired.

* * *

  
they’re more of a target than anything. dream promised them immunity, and they knew it was a lie then; it’s only brought the opposite.

they’re a figure for everyone’s hatred. dream is still acting reasonable in the public eye, for now, and eret is the crazy one. the one who traded their country for kingship, for power that doesn’t exist.

dream doesn’t let them cry, not when he can see it. they’re more thankful for their glasses than ever.

they’ve gotten real good at hiding flinching, too.

* * *

  
dream doesn’t start to loosen his hold at all until the election. they don’t think he means to, but with other playthings in the form of a president and an exiled man, he doesn’t have as much time to fuck with them.

but he makes one thing _very_ clear:

“don’t leave the castle without my permission, got it?”

they’ve got it.

* * *

  
fundy is the first to visit, and when the first signs of orange first at the end of the throne room, they almost weep in relief, almost trip on the edge of their cloak before dream’s words snap them back to their senses, telling them not to act undignified. they still can’t help the giddy smile on their face, and fundy looks them hard in the eye before an awkward “hi.”

they return it quietly.

* * *

  
it’s a hard thing, walking the line between trying to apologize and trying not to reveal anything.

(because they can’t tell the others. they can’t.)

they’re pretty sure fundy suspects something, but they can’t say anything.

not even when they flinch whenever someone raises their voice or moves too fast, or how they’re so much quieter than before, or how they staunchly, staunchly refuse to leave the castle unless it’s an event they’ve been invited to.

dream is playing them like a fucking fiddle, and they can’t do anything about it.

* * *

  
niki is the first person they say anything to.

they’re on a parapet, looking out at the stars, and niki rests her head on their shoulder. they smile down at her. they’ve removed their glasses, and the light from their eyes bathes her in gentle light.

“i’m worried for you,” she says, hooking her arm in theirs. they start back a bit.

“what do you mean?” they ask, trying and failing to reclaim the royal disposition they fall back to in situations like this.

“you’re not happy as king,” she says, moving to fully look them in the face.

(they’re uncomfortable. what do they say? what would dream want them to say? what’s safe?)

“i’m fine,” they say. “it’s just stressful, is all.”

she scoffs. “with what work? eret, it’s obvious you’re not in charge. just please, tell me what’s going on. is it dream?”

they feel the urge to lower their voice like he’s listening in, as silly as it is.

(is he?)

their hands are shaking, and they clasp them to hide it. “i can't tell you anything."

and they don’t say anything more, because dream is there, guiding niki out of the castle, and they don’t say anything to stop it.

* * *

  
they hate him. they hate him, they hate him, they hate him, they hate him, and they don’t say anything about it.

they let dream toy with the idea of replacing them with george, they let him threaten their life, they let him say everything he wants to him, and they take it with grace like they know he wants them to do.

they stand in the center of the room as he paces, feeling so utterly exposed. their crown feels heavy, their robes feel like they’re pulling them to the floor, but they stand composed even as they feel like they might lose a life any moment.

they clench their fists to hide how they’re shaking like a leaf, and it does nothing.

he lunges forward, grasps their chin, and they know now to make eye contact immediately. their eyes reflect off his mask.

he tilts their head, inspecting something, and they don’t flinch even as they know he’ll leave bruises on their cheekbones. he pushes them back, and they try not to stumble.

“you’re an embarrassment,” is all he says. “and if you speak to any of them tomorrow, if you even think of leaving the throne room, i’ll kill you right then and there.”

and they don’t doubt it for a second.

* * *

  
fundy tries to get their attention, and as his ears droop and he spits retorts as he leaves and they pretend to continue reading the book and shift uncomfortably on the throne, they feel like crying. dream is just taunting them.

* * *

  
the next day, it’s niki. she stares them down, tells them not to bend this low, and she leaves. they do cry, then, and dream tells them to stop. and they do.

* * *

  
then it’s sapnap, and they don’t know whether they can talk to him as he tells them about his day. their hands curl on their book, and they don’t know where dream is, and they don’t know if sapnap is safe, and everything feels like too much and sapnap is asking them if they’re paying attention, and then they’re ripping the book with their grip and they’re crying and sapnap is asking them if they’re ok and they still don’t know whether he’s safe and they can’t breathe, and they’re on the floor and sapnap is still asking them if they’re ok and they don’t know.

and dream is there, and for once his hold is soft and he strokes their hair and tells them it’s ok, and of course of sapnap is safe, you’re being silly, and how about we call it a day, and they can’t even help but nod in agreement.

* * *

  
dream tells them to take the day off, and they know it’s not kindness, because as they give up on the latch of the door and wonder whether they can make it out of the window, they see a few people congregating near the castle. they can’t quite make out their names, their faces, or even their voices, but they can tell anger when they hear it. something is happening.

* * *

  
and in front of everyone, the next day, as dream stares her down, niki asks them to join her. they lower their head, stare at their lap as dream chuckles.

* * *

  
but they do. dream tells them he’ll kill them. he tells them he’ll kill niki, kill fundy, kill tommy, kill everyone, but it doesn’t matter. he won’t hurt anyone but them, at least not for now, and they don’t fucking care.

let him do as he pleases, they won’t go down easy. anything is better than this.

they rip the crown off their head, throw it down at dream’s feet, and they leave the castle for the first time in months.

* * *

  
niki cheers when she sees them, and they grin, hug her, grab her and swing her around. it doesn’t matter that they’re both in armor, it doesn’t matter that they’re about to go to war against _him_ , they’re there and they’re out and they’re with the people they love.

even if they don’t love them back. they don’t miss tommy’s glare.

(they deserve it.)

* * *

  
they pity george.

they offer their comfort. they don’t get a response.

(not for months, anyways.)

* * *

  
they retake their mantle, and it’s only a bit easier than before. dream’s control has loosened, but it’s still there, still a looming sense of fear that makes it hard for them to take a full breath.

their friends aren’t there much anymore. fundy is lost in grief, and niki’s doing… whatever she’s doing.

but a new member approaches their, oohs and aahs at their castle but approaches them like a person in a way that makes them want to weep.

her name is puffy, and they love her already.

* * *

  
it’s so hard to leave the castle. they still imagine dream popping out from somewhere, telling them to get back inside, and more often than not they don’t make it out of the door. they're loitering in the doorway, fidgeting with their hands when they see puffy. she waves at them, grinning, and they give her a shaky smile back.

“what’s up?” he asks. their chest tightens.

“um. not sure yet,” is all they can muster, and god, dream wouldn’t like that, but it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t fucking matter anymore.

she nods. “cool.”

they stand in silence for a few seconds, and then she extends a hand and says, “i’m on a walk. wanna join me?”

it’s clear what she’s doing, and they grin at her kindness. the looming feeling in their chest dissipates, just a little. they take her hand, and soon enough they’re out from under the shadow of the castle, and they’re in the sunlight.

and it's hard, their hands still shake and they get the urge to run back where it's safe even when it's not, but she distracts them every time their eyes stray and when they sit down in the middle of the prime path and hide their face in their hands and scrub tears a voice tells them they shouldn't be shedding in the first place she sits with them and makes them laugh.

* * *

  
“maybe being king can be something good,” puffy tells them one night.

“you think?” they ask, huffing a laugh. “i’m not sure.”

“yeah,” she says, elbowing them playfully. “you’re in a special position. maybe you can use your influence to help everyone.”

“i don’t have influence,” they start, but she interrupts.

“i know, maybe politically, you don’t. but people respect you. you can use that.”

it’s hard to imagine anyone respecting them, after their cowardice. but as they lean against puffy and stare at the crater, they suppose someone needs to try around here. and they will.

(they push down the voice that says it’s retribution.)

**Author's Note:**

> i MIGHT add another chapter onto this but i very much doubt it so please don't take me at my word here, but consider following if you want :)
> 
> thank you for reading!
> 
> here's my [ ko-fi ](https://yaoyoyoyo.tumblr.com/post/623129308189327360/i-just-finished-setting-up-a-ko-fi-please-check)!  
> here's my [ information on writing commissions ](https://yaoyoyoyo.tumblr.com/post/631112745941712896/hello-ive-finally-decided-to-officially-open)!  
> here's my [ tumblr ](https://anyaskers.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> let me know if any of the links break, and i'll do my best to fix them!  
> please leave some comments, and i'm always, always open to constructive criticism :).


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